An hour or so passed, and then the drizzle ceased and the gloom lifted.
Rhodes and I were discussing this strange phenomenon when abruptly he cried out and pointed.
"There!" said he, reaching for his revolver. "At last we have ocular proof that we are being followed!"
Even as he spoke, that faint humming, throbbing sound again filled the air.
"Look there! See it, Bill?"
"I see it."
What I saw was an agitation, slight but unmistakable, in the thicket from which we had emerged but a few moments before.
Something was moving there, something was gliding through the dense undergrowth.
I jerked out my revolver. Rhodes had already drawn his.
"Might as well try a shot," said he, "for it won't show itself, in all likelihood, while we are standing ready to receive it."